A Christmas Day Chronicled

On December 25th, we woke at the normal hour - Scott to tend to the baying little goats, and me to roll over once more under the warm covers and delay the inevitable. Scott brought dainty cups and saucers bearing hot coffee. The cups were a gift to me from the office Secret Santa party, and they have a Christmas pattern on the side. We sipped our coffee in bed while eating platefuls of left-over gruel and delicious fresh cow’s milk. We began our celebration by opening our family’s presents that had fit so nicely under our tiny, stolen pine branch, upended and disguised as a Christmas tree. I had decked it out with the lids of canned goods and a cookie package cut into a long silver strip wrapped around the ‘tree.’

Most of our neighbor’s houses also contained little, Charlie Brown-style Christmas trees tucked into corners and sparsely hung with ornaments. Since the forestry service prohibits the unauthorized cutting of trees in our zone, it’s a humorous fact that nearly everyone has a little tree. It’s funny to imagine each family sneaking out (or, more likely, sending a child) to cut down a sapling under the cover of darkness. The holiday spirit meets the element of danger. Like shoplifting your holiday gifts.

After we had just settled in to watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation, I got up to feed the chickens and returned to find Scott talking on the cell phone with Chiquinha. We were late for breakfast, she called to complain. We should know by now that breakfast is at 10:00. So we scooted around preparing ourselves to go down to the house, packing up our camera, gifts, and the ingredients for brownies- another tutorial so that Eliza can make them on her own next time.

There was already a little crowd gathered at Chiquinha’s and everyone was in a festive mood. We were ushered into a room with a table spread with cake, sweet couscous and coffee. Man I love cake for breakfast. What a lovely tradition. I fulfilled my duty in eating two slices.

Chiquinha, Antonio and all the gang talked trash about how ungrateful Scott and I were for not having arrived on time, but they quickly calmed down as I settled in to shelling beans with the rest of the group. As soon as we had shelled and picked the caterpillars out of a few liters worth of ervilha, the group split up to take care of chores. Scott went with Antonio to water the cows and cut hay for the livestock. Chiquinha dawned her ‘monkey suit’ (aka: coveralls) to go pick more beans. She needed to get a sack ready to send to her sister by the time the afternoon car passed by. No rest for the weary. Being a farmer means no true vacation days, ever.

Eliza and I stayed at the house with the kids. They were cold and snotty but ran around and climbed all over us undisturbed. New Year’s Day calls for baths and tightly braided hair, but Christmas day is more relaxed. We adults set to work peeling potatoes and chopping seasonings for the meal while snacking on roasted corn on the cob. Eliza was frequently interrupted from her tasks, called away to sell quarter liters of grogue to neighbors already mid-celebration.

A couple of hours after they had set off, the others returned from the countryside having completed their chores. Their timing was magical. Just as they arrived, Pai Natal (Santa Clause) came in the form of a traveling salesman from Guinea Bissau, his duffle bag loaded with socks, underwear, cheaply made sandals, and a pair of dress pants. He benefited from the celebratory spirit as Chiquinha bought a pair of socks for her grandson, shoving them his direction and giving a cursory “merry Christmas.” José treated his wife and mother-in-law to a pair of sandals each. He offered to buy a pair for me as well, but there were none that fit my narrow feet.

Shortly before lunch was ready at 4:00, Scott and I heeded the pleas from the kids and allowed them to open the gifts that we’d brought. They boys immediately inflated their mini soccer balls and invented a violent sort of game that the older men quickly join in on. The little girls put on their Hello Kitty jewelry and strutted around. Stefania preferred sucking on the beads to wearing them. The adults were also excited to open their packages. Although gifts are not much a part of the Cape Verdean Christmas celebration, Scott and I were very happy to give them. It was an excuse to share with our friends, and their excitement was contagious.

When the meal was finally prepared, the men sat down to eat at a table inside the house. Glass serving bowls filled with beans, rice, french fries, and fried chicken sat atop the table. ‘Dead chicken’ was served this year. ‘Dead chicken’ is the term used to describe frozen, imported meat that is purchased at the market in the city. It’s counterpart is ‘chicken of the land,’ poultry that is locally raised and killed. The dead chicken was a generous gift from Antonio’s out-of-town family.

Inside the soot-covered kitchen, the women scooped food directly from cooking pots, serving themselves and the children. As the entire family normally does, we squatted upon tiny stools beneath the level of smoke in order to eat our meal in the warm, cozy space. A bottle of wine circulated among the group, and while the women complained that it was bitter, they returned for another sip and giggled that their ears were feeling warm.

While the family would have liked to have put on music and spent the afternoon dancing on the patio, custom prohibited it. Antonio’s father recently passed away, and the family is still in mourning. Instead, several of us moved into the bedroom to recline and relax. The relaxing was short-lived, however, as neighbors began dropping buy to give a “boas festas” and enjoy a slice of brownies.

As it began to grow dark, Scott and I gathered our things and headed for home. There were still chickens and goats to be fed. We, on the other hand, were stuffed. This year we felt fulfilled by our Christmas experience. The holiday time, in general, is a difficult time to be away from American friends and family, but we felt pleased by the day spent with our friends here in Cape Verde.